One Way to Escape
by writermeAL
Summary: My heart pounds deep in my chest as I pull out the last piece of paper. I hate my life and this is the only way to escape. Writing, I begin to cry. After creasing each one neatly and placing them gently on the table, I get up to leave. Good-bye is still on my lips, but there's no time. STRONG T RATING: PROFANITY, COARSE LANGUAGE, SUGGESTIVE SCENES. VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED.
1. Trapped at School

**Chapter 1: Trapped at School **

My phone rings with its usual morning alarm. I groggily open my eyes and blink a few times to clear my vision. I grab my phone and see that's it's nearly seven in the morning. Shit! I'll be late! I throw the covers off and jump out of bed. I run into my bathroom to take a quick shower. I run to my closet and grab a pair of deep lavender colored skinny jeans and a white V-neck top with the words "_Like A Complete Unknown" _on it. The words are true. Whoa, after that deep thought, I grab a white washed sleeveless denim jacket and put on my favorite pair of dark brown combat boots, running my hair brush through my messy dark brown hair.

I run back into my room and see that twenty minutes have past. I need to run to school now since my dratted dad won't buy me a car or a motorcycle since he says that they're dangerous. Both of them. I grab my phone, house keys, and shoulder my bag. I fly through the kitchen to grab an apple and even in my rushed state, I could hear my parents arguing in their bedroom. Typical of them. I sigh and quietly shut the door behind me.

School is quite a living nightmare, but I'm quite a goody-two-shoes so I care about my perfect attendance and my no tardy slips record. Now that's something to be proud of. Not many students finish high school with that clean of a record. Well, technically I'm not finish with high school, but it's March of my senior year and I don't have that far more to go to be free. And technically I already have enough credits to graduate. I'm just that good.

I sigh in relief making it to the school grounds within ten minutes of first bell. Sweat dribbles on my face, but I wipe it off. I straighten my clothes and arrange my hair from its fly-away state. I pull my jacket closer around me and duck my head.

I'm light on my feet as if one misstep would cause a mine explosion. It could, metaphorically. I sigh in relief making it through the parking lot to the front doors; well, they wouldn't normally be here anyway. I scurry through the main population of the school, keeping my head down, not making any eye contact. If I do... it's hell. I duck out of the football jocks' way and weave in and out of people doing their usual morning routine of talking the day away with their friends.

Where was Trish?

She was the only person I care about in this dump of a place. Trish dela Rosa has been my best friend since like ever. Even in the hardest of times, she's there to help me. When they're here, she threatens and usually they'll leave. If they don't, it's just a deeper fix for the both of us. I have cuts and bruises from their attacks and even if I were to show it to my parents, they'd just laugh. If it were a teacher, they'd ignore because I'm me.

I hate me. I've got nothing going for me. I'm not a fashion guru. Or a model or beauty queen. I'm not the smartest kid, since Aaron Harper took that slot. I may have perfect attendance, but I'm not that smart. Just smart enough to scrape the bottom of the barrel to get into AP classes so I can get to a good college out of here. But other than that, I'm nobody. I don't belong with the jocks and the populars. I'm not a techie, or a nerd, or a geek (there's a difference between all three, believe me) or a goth or anyone. I'm a lone wolf.

Except when I'm with Trish. She has other friends of course, but at least, unlike most (which is 99.9%) of the student body, she make time for me.

I go to my locker, spinning the dial, to reveal its sad contents. I don't bother to liven it up or decorate it because what's the use? School is for learning and a locker is just to store books so one's bag doesn't get too heavy. Sure it's for personalization, but it's only for four years. Compared to a whole life that's long and well lived, it's nothing. Yeah, you've probably noticed by now that I'm a buzz-kill. Maybe that's why people hate me.

I grab my AP Calculus textbook and my AP British Literature books. I sigh. Two mentally cultivating classes in the morning on a Monday morning. Ugh, please kill me now. Then again, most of my classes are AP classes, so that's a problem. Thankfully, I have Guitar class and Spanish as an escape. I barely scrape by in class, meaning I'm like the lower than average AP student, but still smarter than most of the population, which I don't care about.

I hate my life. It sucks.

And still not being the smartest kid, the way the school student body is built, I'm an easy target.

I reach up to close my locker door when someone does it for me. Someone - bigger, better built - leans himself against the locker next to mines with a heavy thud. I roll my eyes as he slams my locker door shut, loudly, I should say. He does it so fast, it makes me jump back. I glare at him, but he just laughs, amused. What is it with these people?!

"Thought you need some help," he quips, beguiled.

I send him another vicious glare, which he laughs at. "Why thank you! I _needed _help after all." Please, I only need help to understand him and his daft dumbos and bimbos of friends. Speaking of which, they're coming down the hall now, made clear by the sudden shift of air. It's quieter, and a wide path has cleared, and the clearly scared faces of people like me or with similar status.

Yep, it's that bad. I sigh and lean against my locker, waiting for this to be over.

They are the reason my life at school is hell. They make it so hard for me to live a normal life, they make Voldemort look like a nice guy, er, wizard. And that's a pretty accurate simile. Voldemort may kill every person in his way, but they... they probably might be capable, if they were older. So one could say they're Voldemort(s) in training. And so far, they've excelled. They are one reason I hate my life.

Austin Moon and his Crew. They are his selected group of "friends" who are the most annoying, and the biggest players (even though they have girlfriends), sluts and whores. Austin, gang leader and Mr. Pretty-Boy of the school. He's also Mr. Badass, Mr. Jock, etc. I prefer to call him Thing 1, since his girlfriend is Thing 2 and that'd be Cassidy Arce. They have a complicated relationship - an off-again, on-again relationship, and everyday is a surprise where one doesn't know where their relationship status stands.

Then there's Elliot Keller and Dallas Walden. And their girlfriends, Brooke Stallings and Kira Grantt. The guy next to me and who slammed my locker door is Elliot. And guess what? I actually used to like Dallas then Elliot at one point of my high school life. Sad, I know, but at least every girl has fallen at least once for each guy. Austin? He's complicated and so is life and so are my feelings for him. I really don't know how to explain them, they're just there. And it bugs me that I actually like him! But he wasn't always a jerk; he was actually my friend once. I know, hard to believe, but it's true.

I sigh and watch them walk toward me. Elliot leans against the lockers next to me, serving as a flag marker on to my location. It's like that every morning. One of the guys - Elliot or Dallas - are told to look for me and right before first bell, as they strut around campus as a pre-morning stroll, they come out to me - their target.

They stop in front of me, and I just stare at them, expectantly and cross my arms. Austin looks like delicious eye candy as usual, but I can't help but notice his arm loosely draped on Cassidy's shoulders. They must be back together after their _dramatic_ break-up yesterday. "Yes?" I say.

Brooke's eyebrows goes up in shock. They usually acknowledge me first, so I turned the tables on them. They get over it soon enough. "Where's our Algebra homework?" They're the same age as me, but not as mature and mentally developed like me.

I open my binder to find their homework. I knew now to write in their handwriting after quite some forced practices. It's an inside joke between me and Trish that AM and his Crew are so busy screwing each other, that they don't have the time and right mind to do basic Algebra.

Oh, fuck. I forgot their homework was sitting in my other binder that I left at home. Ugh, how could I have been so careless and so forgetful?! Now I'm in deep shit. I look up from my binder, fear written all over my face. "Um, I... I..."

"Well?" Cassidy impatiently taps her foot on the tile flooring, creating a sickening beat. Who knows where could this lead?

"I uh, sorry," I whisper so softly that they probably couldn't hear me. "Forgot it."

Cassidy breaks away from Austin and gets up in my face. "YOU FRICKING FORGOT IT?!" She inhales, exhales rapidly. _Now_ I'm in deep shit. "All we ask is for a few hours of your time. You couldn't do that?!" I look up at her, terrified, and my height of 5'2" doesn't help. "What?! Were you too busy with your prostitutional job that you couldn't do it?"

I steely stare at her, standing my ground. For months this has happened and I'm just about to break. I was hoping to keep myself together until graduation, but I guess I just can't keep it in anymore. My hands fold themselves into fists and stare her down.

"How about you?" I dare ask. "Why can't you do your own homework?" The whole hallway is silent, listening to this showdown. "Are you not smart enough?" I continue on with my rant. "I'm pretty sure that's the case because more than half the guys here, heck, most of them - you've been able to land to bed. I guess that's just too much with homework, is it? Or you just don't have any brains at all? I'm not the slut nor ninny here, you are. Or do you not understand those words? Do I have to baby you?"

Cassidy's mouth drops. "You... I can't believe..." Then she purses her lips and a striking pain follows through my temples. She slaps me, hard. So hard one could compare it to giving birth. I gasp in shock and fall to my knees in pain.

Cassidy crouches down to me. "You'll receive hell later. This doesn't end here."

No one bothers to help me up. No one bothers to ask if I'm okay. They only bother to keep a wide berth from me. So I fall back against the lockers and try my best to keep the tears in. But I can't.

* * *

I sigh and lean back in my seat. AP Biology sucks. My teacher goes on and on about human anatomy that he had explained yesterday. Sure it was a review, but we all couldn't study at home? Ugh, it just wastes class time that is crucial to learn something new.

I stare up at the ceiling counting the cracks. One. This is boring. Two. I hate my life. Three. Cassidy is out for me. Four. She's going to kill me. Five. This is stupid. I close my eyes, put my feet up and sink into my thoughts.

Where is Trish? I haven't seen her at all today? Hmm, maybe she's at home sick? But then if that was the case why didn't she text me? Or maybe she got grounded? But still she'd be at school today. What if she was sick and grounded? Maybe that's why I haven't seen her or heard from her.

"Ally Dawson!" someone snaps. I shake my head and nearly fall to the ground. I look toward the voice to see an unhappy teacher. "What is school to you? A place to catch up on your sleep? I think not. Stay in after class, I have to talk to you."

I just want to yell at him, but I thought the better of it. Right after Biology was lunch and the fact that Cassidy is out for me and the rest of them are too, maybe it was better to stay in here. She won't find me. Yeah, that's the best. So I nod my head and slump against my hand, staring blindly up to the front of the room, pretending to be intrigued by the material.

I seriously was nodding in and out of a nap. But the bell rang jerking me from my sleepy state, but then I remembered my plan and the order to stay back so I watched the steady stream of students to the cafeteria, waiting for the class to empty. Some days like the school's horrible pizza it's like madness to get to the front of the line. It's the hunger game. I smile to myself, puns are the punniest. There they are again! Ah, I love puns. They're one thing that won't turn away from me.

"Miss Dawson?"

I look up to see my teacher at his desk, sitting and waiting. I close my eyes and sigh. Slowly I walk up to his desk because I want to burn as much time as possibly before I'm excused.

"Yes? You wanted to speak with me?"

Mr. Larson inhales deeply then exhales and takes the glasses that balances on the bridge of his nose off and places them on his desk. He scans the room with his eyes before landing on me. "Miss Dawson, this is your last year here at Marino, isn't it?"

I nod in reply. "Yes."

"And you already have enough credits to graduate, I assume?" I nod again as he continues, "Have you ever considered the half day that the counselors recommend for students who already have enough credits. It's not that I don't want you here in class, heck you're the only one who pays close attention, but why don't you make use of your time? We could arrange to have your days cut in half so you can get a part-time job or something."

I heave. This again?! "I know what you mean sir. But my parents don't approve nor do I need a job. After I turn eighteen and get sent off to college, I plan to cut off my parents. My college has already been secured as well as the first years of my life after college."

You know this is the only thing I feel certain about. My future. I know who I want to be. What I want to be. Where I'll be. I know all the answers.

Mr. Larson's eyebrows jump up in amazement. "Really?" he asks. "All set? Wow... that's just... wow!"

I nod. "I know. Thanks." Now the talk is about to be over. Ugh, I need to stall him. Stall. How does one do that? "So... uh..."

He waits for me to say something, but I got nothing. So after a minute more of silence he says, "Well if that's it, you're excused Miss Dawson. I have to go eat my lunch." Of course he does. No teacher wouldn't want to be stuck in a class, in awkwardness, with a student. I nod. "Okay. But no more sleeping in class!" he warns.

I laugh. "I'll try not to, sir." I grab my bag, and with nothing left for this room, I leave first. Concentration leaks back into my face as I scrutinize the halls every now and then seeing that no one is following me. Well, at least not them. I sigh in relief and tip-toe to my locker where I hurriedly enter the combination and deposit my textbooks and grab a few for my afternoon class.

Someone clears their throat behind me as I was just about to leave. Crap! I scrunch up my face in defeat, blaming myself. I slowly close my locker and turn around to see all six of them accounted for. Oh my God, here it comes. "Well, well, well," Cassidy starts.

Should I make a run for it? I look to my right, no one just an empty hall, to my left, a door leading out-side to the courtyard. But I don't want to take this outside. If that happens Cassidy and all of them would he delighted with an audience. I don't want to make a bigger fool of myself. I look around and I see a bathroom. Hmm, maybe I could lock myself in there, at least in one of the stalls. Plus only the girls could enter, except if the guys... ugh. I shake my thoughts and look at Cassidy. "What?" I spat.

"You're a bitch, don't you know that?" Cassidy conjectures. "An ugly, worthless, stupid bitch."

I sneer. I'd think again Cassidy. "Oh, yeah?" I refute. "Are you sure? Aren't _you_ the ugly, worthless and stupid bitch here? Well with your entourage of bitches and bastards, aren't you all?" I stand against the lockers, crossing my arms. They all hate me and that's never going to change so I might as well have some fun with this and make them more angry. That might not be the smartest thing to do, but what have I got to loose?

I smirk when I notice the guys stiffen at being called what they are - bastards. Yep, that's right. I'm dangerous. All guys hate having their egos hurt, so that's how I can target them. The girls are a bit more difficult to break.

Cassidy is silent for a moment, thinking of a comeback and where to head this conversation. "Grab her," Cassidy suddenly says.

I gasp in surprise and groan in pain. Dallas and Elliot grab me by my arms and shove me toward the lockers I was standing in front of. They pin me against it with such force so hard, the locks dig deep into my back, causing horrendous pain. I try to keep myself composed, but it hurts. My breath is ragged and uneven as I take in deep breaths and tears well up in my eyes.

"Not so courageous are you now?" Cassidy smirks. I just want to slap her silly she'll regret doing this to me. But instead I keep my voice quiet and look around. Brooke and Kira stand a few feet away backing Cassidy with slight rueful smiles. Austin is further back, across the hall, leaning against the lockers there. He watches the scene unfold with sad eyes, sometimes cautiously glancing across the halls checking to see if anyone will round the corner. Unfortunately for me, no one comes. So I look to the guys pinning me. Maybe I could get some sympathy from them?

"I can't believe I actually though you two were nice. I actually liked each of you at one point and another," I say so softly that only the two can hear me. But it doesn't work. They stare at me with such deep rancor, it breaks me.

"What'd you say bitch?" Brooke challenges. "I heard you say something. Don't deny it!"

I scowl at her, but like Cassidy who must be rubbing off on her, she stands her ground. So I lie to anger them. "I asked if they wanted to be laid tonight. If you're busy, then maybe they could-"

"Enough!" Kira exclaims. Hmm, it worked for one. I look at the other two. Brooke seems a bit perturbed by the statement but Cassidy, she looks at me with a delighted expression, but Kira goes on, "That's not something to be made fun of, slut."

"You sure?" I contradict. "I'm not the one sneaking out at night to sleep with a different guy every night." And for that, I receive a slap from her, as if the one I got in the morning didn't hurt.

Cassidy holds up her arm to prevent Kira from murdering me. Well then, she must be saving the goods for later. "Wait," she says. "I have something to say before you can punish her." She looks down at my shirt. "The 'complete unknown' huh? Well, we'll completely make you unknown. I've always had a score to settle with you Dorkson."

"And what's that?" I harshly reply. "You're the foul, loathsome swine here."

"Shut the hell up stupid," she says. Then she walks up to me and grabs a fistful of my hair. God, that hurt as I whimper. "Oh, did I hit a chord there? You feel the pain? Well, that's nothing compared to the pain I've felt!"

I want her to let go. But I know she won't. "What do you mean?" I ask.

"You know what I mean!" she refutes. "Don't play dumb with me! Of course, you could fool anybody." I still had no idea what she was talking about. I sigh in relief when she finally lets go of my hair. "She's all yours." Then I watch her walk to Austin who seems to be uncomfortable by the situation. Why? But he doesn't do anything and just watches the rest unfold with his "girlfriend". Dallas and Elliot still have me pinned, but that doesn't hinder them from throwing a few punches at me.

I groan in pain. One after the other they hit me. Finally, the two guys let go and I don't have enough strength to hold myself up so I sink to the floor. Cassidy just laughs as I look at her trying to catch my breath. Then one of the girls kicks me in the stomach while the other pulls my hair. I land on the floor, bruised and scraped. But it doesn't end from there.

"You lowly sons and daughters of bastards!" I gasp.

The guys haul me up, holding me and throw me against the lockers. But I manage to use some strength to prevent myself from hitting the ground. I try to stagger away, but they only shove me to the ground, tripping and kicking me. Now it hurts so bad, tears form and silently they begin to fall. It's no use to say words.

Seriously, I hate my life. What did I ever do to deserve all this?

**A/N: This is a different story from my usual romance stories and usual writing style. But it's a pretty interesting experience not being in my comfort zone.**

**Review! Follow! Favorite!**


	2. Trapped at Sonic Boom

**Chapter 2: Trapped at Sonic Boom**

I sigh in relief and anticipation when the final bell rings. That bell can signal and trigger many things, good and bad. Cassidy might jump at me again or I might be able to get away from this hell to Sonic Boom. I get up with everyone else and try to mix in with everyone. I need to go back to my locker but I don't want to risk being spotted. Yes, everyday is like this unless they decide to skip school. Why is my life like this? That is why I'm waiting ever so patiently to get out of this town.

My muscles relax a bit more once making it out of the school grounds. Now it's a twenty minute walk to the Mall of Miami. Let's hope they don't spot me.

It's already March, but it was a bit chilly for a jacket. And shit, I don't have one. Just a denim cover-up that doesn't even have sleeves. Gosh, my fashion drives me over the edge. I push my bag up on my shoulder and sigh. April and May. Two more months. Two more months before I can really leave. Two more months before I graduate. God, I can't wait.

I kick up walls of dust and dirt was I walk past a row of silent houses. I look down towards the ground and smile. Daisies; I love daisies. Winter's gone and spring is here. Seeing these flowers bloom is like a sign of hope that life will prosper after a harsh extent then shifts to a time of beauty and growth. I stop with my tracks and squat to examine them closer. Light as a feather, I pick one from the ground and hold it to my face. I smile.

Suddenly, a guy on a skateboard flies past. "Watch out!" he warns as he comes closer. I only have time to look back and fall to the side, unbalanced on the ground. "Thanks!" he calls back, speeding away. You're welcome, I mutter in my head. Ugh, I officially hate guys on skateboards. I stand back up and brush dirt and grass from my clothes. Oh no. I trampled all the daisies. They're now... dead. I sigh and look at my hands. At least one was spared.

Pushing the thought out of my mind, I press forward, toward the Mall of Miami. Step after step, one after the other, I push off the ground with a shuffle. I sigh and squint ahead because of the bright, boisterous light.

Once I was on mall premises, my sprits lighten by a tad bit. But not by much. This place, this hell, is full of my predators. If they find me, they'll eat me alive. But the biggest and most bad of them all, ugh, just the thought of him gives me shivers. But he resides under this pretty face of his, deceiving people for what he truly isn't. And just to think, it's mandatory I have to face him nearly every single day. Only Fridays, he isn't around, but today isn't a Friday; it's only Monday. God help me.

I close my eyes for a second and once opening them again, I'm faced with my family's store. Sonic Boom. With its granite tiling and its proud sign imitating an actual sonic boom. Why was the store even named that? It's just stupid. Once I get over thinking about my dad's thinking patterns, I brace myself and push the door entering the air-conditioned show room.

Ugh, there he stands. So instinctively, I duck my head and making the least noise possible, I sneak at the corners of the room. I duck behind a tall rack of pianos and sneak to the beam supporting the stairs. As I place my foot on the first step, hoping to God that it won't creak, someone shifts behind me.

"There she is!" Damn it. I put my foot down and turn to him. Him being Reese Naylor. One of the most annoying and most self-absorbed people that ever walked upon the planet. Ugh, he thinks he's such a pretty boy. I half-heartedly agree. His black curls make him look cute and innocent, but I know, his personality is 100 times uglier. And that face! Even with that strong jawline and pudgy cheeks, he makes it work. And yes, I absolutely hate him. "Hey babe," he says.

I just want to slap that smirk all the way to the North Pole. "I'm not your 'babe'," I shoot back.

He places his hands over his heart and pouts, feigning his hurt feelings. As if. "That hurt me deep, baby. Try to be nice, okay? For the sake of this relationship."

I grit my teeth and try to hold back my anger and annoyance. "Two things," I begin. "One, _this-_" I wave my arms between the two of us "-whatever _this_ is, isn't true. Isn't happening. _Ever._ And two, get the hell away from me."

He jumps and sits back on the counter of Sonic Boom in a casual notion. I roll my eyes. "Whatever you say, babe. But I know, I live in your dreams. I just know it." I scoff. He is just so conceited. "And I can't leave. Don't you remember baby? I work here. You dad _loves_ me."

Yeah, right. My dad only loves him just because of his bright, cheery, helpful personality which I bet my whole life, isn't one percent true.

"Whatever, Reese. I'm going to the practice room. And don't bother talking to me. Bye." I turn away and begin my accent up the stairs, but not before I can throw him my best glare that I'd been saving up.

He hoots. "Oh, ho! We're on speaking terms and _alone_ time in the practice room. Wow, babe, I didn't know you wanted it that fast. But if you do, I'm more than willing." He smiles and even has the nerve to wink.

I stomp up the stairs in response.

Suddenly, I hear him wolf-whistle. Oh God, what now? You know, I really shouldn't be giving him any attention to stop all of this, but he... he irks me to no end! "Nice ass!" he yells up to me. And for him to use such words, I know that my dad must be running some errands. I look back at him as he wears a hungry look toward me. Yuck, that is disgusting! So in reply I hold up my middle finger. Laugh if you will, but compared to today's standards that's elementary school level.

He jumps back in fake revelation with a sad-not-really-apologetic-look. "Oh, sorry. I mean _beautiful _ass." I throw him another disgusted look and he laughs. Paying him no more heed, I push the door open of the practice room and stand there in shock. I want to scream, I want to tear my hair off. What the fuck happened?

What the hell happened to my practice room?!

I swear, if Reese did all this was going to rip his head off! I clutch my hands into fists and seethe. I breath in and out, trying to keep composed. Rage blinds me and I can't think straight, but I barge back down to the show room. "Reese!" I bark, feeling a bit light-headed. "What the frick did you do to my practice room?!"

Reese looks up from his Playboy magazine. Ugh, even the cover itself... ugh, it's disgusting. "Yes, _baby_?" he coos.

I growl. "Stop calling me that! And what the fuck happened to the practice room?! My practice room!?" I shout, pointing in the general direction of my beloved now-gone haven.

He shrugs. "I don't know. Why don't you ask your father?" Is he lying? Because if he did, I swear to God, I will... Ugh! I scowl and stampede back upstairs. I slam the door and slump against it. I warily take in my surroundings. My practice room... My beloved practice room... The only place I could be me... Gone! Ripped from my hands. I can't believe my dad (or Reese) would do something like this.

It was back to its beige colored walls and everything had been stripped. The up-right piano, the abstract multi-colored fridge, the foosball table, the set of the two tall conga drums, a Fender electric guitar, the jukebox, the soundboard and equipment, the giant 'A', and all the posters. But I the thing that I miss the most is his tiger-patterned guitar.

I had told him that I'd hold it until he came back. I had hope, he would come back, and I still have, but now... I'm not so sure. I don't care if he's not coming back, but I need that guitar. It's the only thing I have left of him and how great things once were. Where was it? I know it's not here because it was bare with only a few scraps of paper littering the floor. Where had everything gone?

This was my practice room! My haven! Where I could purse my musical talents without the whole world watching and judging. Where I could be me, Ally Dawson. I deeply sigh and stand back up. Suddenly I hear the bell chime downstairs, signaling the arrival of a customer. "Hey, Mr. Dawson!" I hear Reese call out sweetly. I roll my eyes and rush downstairs to confront my dad.

"Ally!" he greets with arms wide-open, but I stand defiant at the bottom of the stairs. He is smiling, but underneath it, I can sense his worry and anxiety of what I'm about to do. Not that he ever cared. He drops his arms and approaches me with apprehension in his eyes. "Ally?"

"What the fuck happened to my practice room?!" I immediately ask. "Who gave you the right to do that?"

My father has an uncontrollable temper, so one second he can be reasonable and logistic and the next, yelling and screaming at your face with not much sense in his words. His mind works in a way so his claims overrun yours and so he can win. My dad works in such a cunning way, it's intimidating. "What are you talking about?" he questions, confused. "Oh, you mean the practice room? Your practice room and it's ah, stripping down?" I nod furiously. "That was for the better good of this store."

I stare at him. What does he mean? "What are you trying to-"

"Ally," he interrupts. "Didn't you hear me? It's for the better good for the store. Business has been booming, thanks quite a lot from Reese who is a marketing genius-" Reese smiles smugly behind him, as I scoff "-and I've realized that now, in prime is to expand the business. I want Sonic Boom all across America. I want this business to be big! I want it to be successful! Well, it already is, but I want even more! So that's why I cleared the practice room."

"What the h-" I started to say, but once again my dad cut me off.

"You're leaving for college soon, and I know you want out of this hellhole, and I figured you wouldn't need that place anymore, so I decided to take advantage of the time before your mother claimed the place. I need a storage room, and another office where I can plan out how to expand the business," he explained.

I look at him warily and sigh. "But couldn't you have waited until I actually left?"

Realization flashes in his eyes. "Oh." He looks down and shuffles his feet, twiddling his fingers.

Damn him! I throw my hands in the air in frustration. Then I look back at my dad. "Okay, you know what? Forget it. Just where did everything go? Where did you put everything?"

"Oh thank you Ally!" He rushes to hug me, but I stop him and repeat my last question. He has to think before he can give his answer. "Where everything went? Oh, I sold them. Took a while," he chuckles, "but I sold most of them. The only things that wouldn't sell were some trashed instruments. But oh well, I got quite a sum for it!"

I gape at him. He sold them?! I take in deep breaths, trying to calm myself. "Did you sell a guitar? Did you sell a tiger-striped guitar?"

My dad shakes his head, as I sigh in relief. "No, I didn't. Why?"

Heck! It doesn't matter why, but where. "What happened to it?" I ask. "Where's it now? Where?!" My dad thinks for a minute, searching for his answer. The suspense was killing me. That guitar is my life! I can't bear the thought that it's gone, that I can't hold it close to my heart as he once did. I can't.

"Um... I think I gave it to my friend's dau-"

No! "Urgh!" I throw my hands up in the air. "You gave it away?! Dad! How could you! Ugh! I can't stand to see you!" I exclaim before dashing back upstairs and slamming the door just for the heck of it. How could he have given that guitar away?! That's my life! Where is it now? But I doubt I can get it back, _if_ I can ever get it back. Ugh, why is my life so fricking hard?

I sit against the lock door in the empty practice room. My eyes travel to the wide-open windows to let the air flow in. The shades were down and I could see the tops of the palm trees dancing to the beat of the wind. If only I was as free and not as restricted as I am. I stand up and walk over to the window and look out. The mall is crowded with people milling around. Friends hanging out after-school, families having an afternoon out, parents rushing to get their shopping done, and tired employees wondering where their life had gone. Yep, another typical day.

Then my sharp eyes spot the movement of a messy, but perfect mop of blond hair. Hmm, Austin must be here. Then I groan. If he's here... then that bitch and her posse must be here too. I sigh, as she clouds my thoughts. I can't go a day without her interrupting my thoughts, in a negative way. Damn life itself!

Hey... where's Trish? I need to talk to her. So I pull out my phone, with its bedazzled case of music notes and unlock it. For a moment I stare at the background wallpaper. It hasn't changed for years, and I don't think I will ever change it. Not now, not ever. I was happy then; when the picture itself was taken and it's the only remembrance along with the guitar of my old life. I shake my head and open up my latest conversation with my best friend which was late last night. I started punching in the letters to my message before rethinking my thoughts.

So instead, I send her a short greeting and the simple question of where the hell is she and why the fuck she didn't show up for school.

Within a ten second margin, my phone buzzes again, signifying her reply. I quickly open it and it says, '_h__i to you too, grumpy. 1) at my new job. 2) doctor appointment._' Ah, so that's why she didn't show. I quickly reply and send, asking if she was busy, hinting that we need to talk. Once again, bless her, she sends a quick reply. '_um... busy. work. sorry, Als. text ya later?_' My shoulders drop in disappointment once reading her reply. I sigh and agree to her terms.

What now? I can't actually talk to my dad, and I think with the episode just minutes ago, he doesn't really want to see me either and will probably excuse me from my shift. So I ask again, what now? Let's start with me getting out of here. I don't need to work, so _why_ am I here? I've got a point there. I shrug, and with nothing better to do, I slowly open the door and peep into the show room of the store. Seeing that only Reese was down there (and my dad must've locked himself in his office) I let myself out of the room and go downstairs.

Upon hearing my decent, Reese looks up from his magazine. His face breaks into a smile. Huh, sometimes I really wish it would literally break. And why does he keep gunning for me? He knows he can't have me, but still why does he try? He's like a playboy, so why does he stick for a challenge and freak like me?

"Hey Ally," he says. "Can you come here for a moment? I need help with something."

Red lights are flashing in my mind because _that_ is never a good phrase hearing Reese say. "What do you want?" I quietly ask, as I slowly slink my way over to the counter of Sonic Boom.

"Come here," he urges, pointing to his magazine.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not falling for this trick again," I respond, standing my ground and remembering the last time he did something similar several months ago. He was reading another issue of _Playboy_ and asked me to come take a look. I actually had listened, not knowing what type of person he was, and then he had flipped his magazine open to a bookmarked page it showed a full color image of... I shudder at the thought. I wish I could have un-see what he had showed me. It scarred me, probably for life!

"Don't worry, babe," he says. "It's not like last time. It's different. _I'm_ different."

I scoff. "Yeah, right." But still, I walk around the corner and join him. "What now?"

"This." He advances to me, as I back up. Up against the counter, trapped. I look left to right, but there was no escape. He keeps his advance as I try to back up as far as I can. If I had enough strength I could have jumped onto the counter, but due to my short and wiry frame, guess there's no chance of that happening. So I hold my ground and glare at him.

He reaches up and puts his hands on my arms, rubbing them up and down. "Lighten up babe. It's just starting."

I look at him, fear reflecting in my eyes. "W-what a-are you t-talking about? W-what do you m-mean?"

He is at arm length's away, his eyes boring into my soul burning a hole. He takes a step closing the gap even more. "What do you think I mean?" he asks in a husky tone. I think it was supposed to be one, but it just... didn't sound right. It was just plain creepy and scares the fuck out of me.

"Get your arms away from me!" I snap, slapping his hands away from me. But he is persistent. He places his hands on me again, but this time more harder, more firm of his grip on me and it's killing me. "Let go!" I say, trying to keep my voice steady. I try to liberate myself from him, but he just holds on tighter. "Let me go!" I repeat, squirming in his grim, trying to twist away. But he's relentless in his attempts.

"Why would I do that?" he 'innocently' asks, pulling away for a slight second. He looks at me with an amused sort of face. "Why babe?" he asks. "Why? When we're having so much _fun_!" I look at him in disgust. I was totally right about his character. It is nothing but ugly! He's ruthless, vile, condescending, impudent and a total jackass. He smirks and takes a step closer. We were only inches away of something that I never want to happen. "It's just the start," he laughs, taking his hands off my arms (thank God!) and slipping them around my waist (hell no!). "Isn't that much better?" he muses.

"Reese," I say. "Get. The. Fuck. Away. From Me!"

He chuckles in response. Then he places his hands on the counter, entrapping me. He stands in a way that blocks off any escape if I had to try and duck under his arms. "No way, baby. No way." He inches closer as I try to pull back, stretching my back causing my neck to ache. I wince in pain. He takes one of his hands off the counter and loops it around me, placing it at the small of my back. He slightly pushes me toward him an says, "Don't strain yourself yet. It's not yet time."

Ugh! This guy?... He's unbelievable! "And when is that time?" I dare ask.

He smirks and inches so that we are practically as one - which is something I never want. "Try me and see."

"No... No, no, no. NO!" I say trying to get myself away. "I'm not going to try."

Reese shrugs. "Well then, I guess I'll try." He smirks in an evil way and starts to lean in. He places feather-light kisses on the crook of my neck which makes me shiver in a disgusted feel. He nips my fragile skin, then tires to sooth it with his tongue.

I push him away to no avail. I squirm and twist my position in hopes he'll let me free. But back in my mind, I know he won't.

"Calm down, babe," he says, but I hear it. I hear the edge and the lack of patience that has risen. And that is not a good sign.

But wait! Didn't my dad install a security camera in the store? I crane my name to look up and find the camera, but Reese had beaten me to it. "Looking for the security cam?" he asks. I furiously torn to him, scowling. Damn the guy! He had left the camera on, so my dad wouldn't be suspicious if it got turned off, but he had turned and angled the camera away. I was a bit surprised seeing Reese wasn't as dim-witted as he actually looks. But still, I hate him.

But there's still my dad. My last hope. I can't believe I'm saying that seeing how my relationship with my dad isn't the most coziest. Oh well, I'll make it up to him later. I take a deep breath and yell, "Dad! Help!" Reese didn't try and quiet me, which struck me odd. "Dad! Help me! Reese this ass is trying to... he's... Help!" But he doesn't come to my aid. Instead all I hear is silence except for this fuck's smirking. "What'd you do?" I accuse. "Did you perhaps tie him up too?" I would and wouldn't be surprised that he had the brash to do so.

He shook his head. "No, I'm not that crazy." I look at him. He's... he's... oh my God. He's got to be playing with me. "But he's left; Had some errands to run." But that'd mean he could be back at any given moment. "No, no he's not. I checked with him. He should be back in one more hour," he replies as if he had been reading my mind. Damn him - Reese and my dad! Damn those two to hell!

"Let's stop with the stalling," he says. "And get to the real thing." My eyes widen. I've let him get this far, but not anymore. There is no way on Earth that he's going to get what he wants. "Let the party begin," he crows.

Reese drops his hands down to his belt and began unbuckling it. If I want to get away, now would be ideal. Just how? He loosens his belt off the loops and throws it to the floor. Then he looks at me with a sly smile. Reese pushes himself against me forcing friction on himself. He groans in wanting. I whimper. Mistaking or rather ignoring my whines, he forces me on him. His hands go down to his jeans and starts to undress himself.

His hands are all over me, groping and grabbing. It made me feel disgusted. I take in a deep breathe and twist my position. I lift my leg and knee him in the groin with all the strength I can muster. He moans in pain and steps back. "That is for coming at me," I spit in his face. He crouches and massages his crotch then looks at me with an evil glint in his eyes. But the glint had a whole lot of dangerous anger in it.

I step away and run out of Sonic Boom as fast as my legs can carry me. I stop for a breath at a large post near the food court. As I pant, waiting for my heart beat to slow down, I hear some familiar voices.

I hear Trish's sassy tone, Dez's light personality, Austin's more solemn one then I hear his bitches' fake annoying high pitch voices adding to those bastards'. Why is Trish with them? Dez maybe... but Trish?

How could this get any worse?

**A/N: It's been a while... sorry. But this is the chapter I'm if-y about but it's not as graphic as I first imagined it.  
Note: I don't swear this much in reality, it's just for the story. **

**Anyway, how's the chapter?**

**Review! Follow! Favorite!**


End file.
